Part 50 (2/2)

”If they kept that up, it would be a question of whose power supply would last longer. And it would not be ours.... You saw our lights fade when the bolt was striking?”

But the brigands did not know we were short of power. And to fire the projector with a continuous bolt would, in thirty minutes, perhaps, have exhausted their own power reserve.

”I won't answer them,” Grantline declared. ”Our game is to sit defensive. Conserve everything. Let them make the leading moves.”

We waited half an hour; but no other shot came. The valley floor was patched with Earthlight and shadow. We could see the vague outline of the brigand s.h.i.+p backed up at the foot of the opposite crater wall.

The form of its dome over the illuminated deck was visible, and the line of its tiny hull ovals.

On the rocks near the s.h.i.+p, helmet lights of prowling brigands occasionally showed.

Whatever activity was going on down there we could not see with the naked eye. Grantline did not use our telescope at first. To connect it, even for local range, drew on our precious ammunition of power.

Some of the men urged that we search the sky with the telescope. Was our rescue s.h.i.+p from Earth coming? But Grantline refused. We were in no trouble yet. And every delay was to our advantage.

”Commander, where shall I put these helmets?”

A man came wheeling a pile of helmets on a small truck.

”At the manual port--in the other building.”

Our weapons and outside equipment were ma.s.sed at the main exit locks of the large building. But we might want to go out through smaller locks too. Grantline sent helmets there; suits were not needed, as most of us were garbed in them now.

Snap was still in the workshop. I went there during this first half-hour of the attack. Ten of our men were busy there with the little flying platforms and the fabric s.h.i.+elds.

”How goes it, Snap?”

”Almost all ready.”

He had six of the platforms, including the one we had already used, and more than a dozen hand s.h.i.+elds. At a squeeze, all of us could ride on these six little vehicles. We might _have_ to ride them! We planned that, in event of disaster to the buildings, we could at least escape in this fas.h.i.+on. Food supplies and water were now being placed at the ports.

Depressing preparations! Our buildings uninhabitable, a rush out and away, abandoning the treasure.... Grantline had never mentioned such a contingency, but I noticed, nevertheless, that preparations were being made.

Snap's voice was raised over the clang of the workmen bolting the gravity plates of the last platform:

”Only that one projector, Gregg?”

”They gave us four blasts; but just the one projector. Their strongest.”

He grinned. He wore no Erentz suit as yet. He stood in torn grimy work trousers and a bedraggled s.h.i.+rt, with the inevitable red eyeshade holding back his unruly hair. Around his waist was the weighted belt, and there were weights on his shoes for gravity stability.

”Didn't hurt us much.”

”No.”

”When I get the tube panels in this thing I'll be finished. It'll take another half-hour. Then I'll join you. Where are you stationed?”

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